


Only a Fight.

by Kawaiikidney



Category: overwatch
Genre: AU, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 16:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9245396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kawaiikidney/pseuds/Kawaiikidney
Summary: It was just a fight. Junkrat shouldn't have ran.





	

**Author's Note:**

> soso me n me gf roxie like we thought of this one crackship that became a lil more than a crack ship n we kinda ship it now so  
> hERES THIS   
> me and Roxie wrote it ;;  
> please enjoy and please ship hajubra

Everyone's been on edge lately. Hanzo, Sombra, and Jamie have been bickering for weeks. 

“Sombra, I am here taking _care_ of Jamie all day! Cleaning the house and everything you ask me to do! I really don't understand why you're angry! Please listen!” 

“Oh com’ on! I can take care of me’self Hanzo! Don’ treat me like som’ kind of chil’!”

“Hanzo, Jamie, I work _all day!_ I'm always stressed from working and I come home and everything I asked isn't done. Cleaned house? There's dishes in the sink, floors aren't vacuumed and everything dusty! Dios mio, ustedes dos son NIÑOS!” 

“Oh be quiet Sombra! You expect too much out’a me ‘nd Hanzo!”

Hanzo keeps quiet.

“Demasiado!? You just have no responsibility! If you don't like the way I have things then leave, Jamie!”   
“Maybe I will! It's not like either of ‘ye will miss me!”

All week. It's been constant fighting. However Jamie decides to actually leave this time, maybe go out for a few drinks, he doesn’t know. He feels a little guilt storming out like that. Yet, Sombra was out of line. Jamie wrestles with himself, half of him wanted to go back home, apologize and just go to bed like normal. He loves Hanzo and Sombra, yet the other half wants to prove a point. He was known for his frequent “explosive” behavior, but he is sticking to his gut this time.

Jamie ends up wandering into a bar, a few blocks away from his house. He notices a lot of people mingling and drinking. He just wants to forget his life for one night. The booths were packed to capacity, but the actual bar was almost empty. He sits down and orders some shots, downs about three or four or in the first couple minutes. Stings like a bitch, rekindling his hate for alcohol. 

Damn. He really misses his lovers. 

He starts to tear up a little at that, he didn't show it much though, he has a reputation to uphold of course. The shit alcohol isn’t working fast enough. 

A much larger man sat next to Jamie, twice the size of himself! He orders his own drinks and starts downing them. The man noticed Jamie’s disposition. 

“You look like shit,” the guy says, and Jamie slouches a little more. 

“Ah wel’ I feel like it too mate.” 

“You want something? I can help a guy in need.”

Jamie takes the man’s offer of booze, drinking at least eight shots that night. He was _drunk._

He doesn’t know how it happens, but the guy manages to calm him down some. Make him laugh, even. They share stories. Figures both of them are born in Aussie.  
“What do I call you? I don't even know your name,” the pleasant man asks.

“Ohhhh! Cal’ me Junkrat!” He exclaims his alias loudly, then laughs maniacally, face beet red and vision blurred.

Jaime starts to calm down a bit, his words slurring in every sentence. He starts getting touchy, until he finally succumbed to the alcohol and blacked out.

…

“This is all your fault! 何をしましたか?!” Hanzo, the one usually with a cool composure, starts to yell at his significant other. He was worried sick over Jamie. His hand unclenched, really trying to regain his cool. This isn’t just Sombra’s fault.

“Hanzo, how dare you?! You do realize if you would've helped out I wouldn't have of been so angry to say something I didn't mean! He's usually back around now I-” Sombra chokes on her words. “What have I done, Hanzo? Qué he hecho?!” 

Sombra curls up to Hanzo, crying her eyes out. Hanzo says, tone soft, “We’ll call the police. They’ll find him.”

…

Jamie ends up awake in some stranger's fucking bed, his heart hammering and hands shaking violently. A massive urge to purge his insides roles the moment he tries to sit up.   
A hangover, a really bad one. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He needs to get out, go home- oh God, he cheated- he needed to apologize- no, they'd drop him, he'd destroy them- he had to.. Despite the urge to throw up, Jamie shifts forward, fighting back the nausea. He freezes once the bed creaks, the person next to him shifts awake. "Mmh?" 

Motherfucker-- fuck, fuck, shit. 

"How can you move after all those drinks you had?" The man's voice was so deep, it follows up with an easy laugh. Jamie covers his mouth. He's about to throw up. 

Things spiral down after that. He finds himself in the stranger's bathroom, mucus, tears and vomit rushing down his face and a flaring anger that matches no other. He doesn't let the man touch him. He doesn't know this fucking dude. As soon as the desperate words "I need to leave" exit his mouth, the man's face hardens and he insists Jamie can't leave. They shared a night together! 

_I'm sorry but that didn' mean nothin,_ he wants to say. He wants to scream it. But his throat feels like it's closing up, his whole body feels detached.   
Jamie ends up knowing true wrath. This man thinks he's entitled to him. He grabs him by the wrist and hoists him up, shaking him as he hisses at Jamie about sex. It was a bond, or something. He couldn't make what the man's saying, his heart was screaming in his ears. 

God, why the fuck did he leave? 

The grip on his hand goes away much sooner than he expects, his head hits the brim of the toilet and stars dance in his vision. He blacks out again.

… 

Hanzo has no rest. Sombra has no rest. Both are sitting in the kitchen table, their throats tired from yelling at each other. They skipped work to sit and wallow. Light pooled into the kitchen room. It’s been hours since Jamie left. How could they do anything when he’s out there? In a ditch dead?! In the streets alone?!

Hanzo rubs his temples, eyes puffy and red. He croaks, "I don't know what to do." It's the fourth time he's said that. Sombra doesn't respond. 

...

A week goes by. One whole goddamn week. Police start speculating his death, offer consoling advice, promise to find whoever killed Jamie. It doesn't make them feel any better. They're just repeating whatever bullshit sentiment they give to every suspected murder cases’ family. 

Hanzo slept in the guest bedroom, Sombra in the couch. Neither could bear the weight of sleeping on their bed. Relive the memories. They didn't really talk much throughout the week, mostly passing by each other like undisturbed ghosts. 

It's funny how empty someone can get without their loved one. 

No. 

It's not funny. 

It’s horrible. 

...

It's twelve AM. There's a pathetic knock on the door. Sombra sits up, she was having a hard time falling asleep. Like always. Her feet glide to the door, thinking maybe it's the police. Her hand touches the doorknob. What if they found Jamie's body? 

Confidence. Confidence.

She opens the door. 

_Jamison._ Jamison's at the door. Except. It's not Jamison. 

He's skinnier, bruises decorating his face and arms, shirt cutting off from showing whatever else there is. His eyes don't hold the same luster. There's defeat in his stance.   
Submission. 

Sombra thinks it's the ghost of Jamie. Up until she reaches out to hold his cheek. He flinches away, a string of apologies escaping him.  
 _“It's my fault, I-- I let him-- he offered me d-drinks, fuck, fucking-- he-- I--”_

She can’t understand what he was saying. She can’t understand how he’s possibly there in front of her. Her head sharply turns when he hears the surprised noise of Hanzo, who doesn't dare move from the hallway, eyes transfixed on Jamie's ghost. 

"Why aren't ya all fockin’ _yelling at me!?"_ Jamie shouts, he's so mad. So sad. Broken. His breathing is fast, his hands grab a fistful of his hair, irrational thoughts fling all around. 

They're silent, Sombra, feeling the collision of emotion, tries to hug Jamie. Yet again he flinches away, jumping back to avoid being touched. 

Hanzo rushes forward and asks, "Where-- what happened to you?" 

Jamie sobs. He shakes his head. Nothing but blubbering left his mouth. 

...

A few weeks go by in a blur. The police interrogate him for hours, forcing him to relive the instances. The rapes. Beatings. He's in and out of the hospital, all he sees is money rising higher and higher. 

Jamie sees how broken Hanzo and Sombra are. They don't talk to each other. They don't try to talk to him, all he'll offer them is his silence. They all sleep in different rooms.  
He knows he caused this all. If he wasn't so fucking selfish. 

Jamie's so sick and tired of their soft expressions, their hesitance to go near him. Their wanting to know more. He's sick of his guilt. He doesn't eat. He doesn't go out of the room. He snaps easily. He's sick of feeling how he fucking betrayed them. 

It occurs to him one silent night (of many) how things can go down. Either he continues to live in this fucking hell on Earth, silence and passing glances, emptiness and guilt, or he does what he deserves. It's not so much of a hard decision for him. He's already up and wandering to the bathroom inside the bedroom, quietly searching the cabinets for the essential piece. 

He locks the door, turns on the bathtub, strips himself of his clothes and inspects himself in the mirror. 

He's a fucking ghost. 

He's too skinny now. Too many bags under his eyes. Too many browning bruises. 

Too many reasons to end his life. 

The hot water starts to steam up the bathroom, fogging up the mirror. 

His heart hurts so much. He's so afraid-- but, he's not. His body is afraid. It knows what he's going to do. He's ready. He feels it. But his innate senses are trying to argue with him. 

He dips into the bathtub. 

That's a little funny, no? Bathtub. The word is nice to say. He whispers it to himself. This will be his grave. This is where he sleeps. A bathtub.

There's a knock on the door. 

"Jamison? It's three AM... What are you doing?" 

Fuck. Hanzo's out there. He'd better make this quick. He doesn't respond, instead pressing the razor to his arm. What was that little thing, again? Sideways for attention, vertical for results? 

He wants results.

Jamie drops the razor after the first cut. It hurt so much. So fucking much. He cries, really hard, because it hurts so much. He's bleeding so much. 

The water accepts his sacrifice, drinking his essence with greed. It tints red. 

He heard hard knocking. 

"Jamie? Jamie-- what are you doing? Unlock the door!" 

He fumbles to reclaim the razor. He needs to make it so that Hanzo couldn't break in and save his life. His next wrist burns with the same amount of pain. He sobs heavily. The water drinks. 

There's a pounding, it's the door, he thinks. Jamie can't focus too much now. 

Bathtub's a funny word. 

He tries to move his hand up, but nothing happens. His breathing feels really heavy. His head fogs. He's so tired. 

There's a blur in front of him. Indistinct shouting. It doesn't matter anymore. 

He's going to sleep.   
…

Hanzo regretted that day a lot. Even when he broke the door open, shoulder numbed from slamming into it, he didn't move. Jamison's face was void of expression. His eyes staring into nothing. There was nothing to look at when you were dead. Hanzo barely noticed as Sombra ran past him, screaming, crying, trying to lift Jamison up. "Call 911!" She shrieked, her white nightgown tinting red. 

He did. But it was delayed. 

He called 911. Told them what happened. Gave them his address. Hung up. His eyes didn't move from the spot. Sombra removed her shirt, tying that onto Jamie's arm, ripped off her pants and did the same to the other arm. She always was a woman of action. 

He didn't know how long it was. Hours? Days? The ambulance was there. He opened the door, they bullet past him. He watched them do that. Never tried to help.   
They wheeled out Jamie. He remembered noticing one thing: they closed Jamie's eyes. 

They followed the ambulance as best they could that night. Waited hours in the white waiting room. He could probably draw out how the whole room looked like, he didn't miss a detail staring. 

One surgeon came out. There was light pouring in from the outside. He shook his head. 

Hanzo remembered entering the room with Sombra. There was no happy reunion. Only empty silence. 

One that he had grown used to. 

He didn't recall much after that. Few months later they held Jamie's funeral. He didn't go up to speak. Sombra did, but, it was hard for her. 

They went to the same house. It wasn't a place to live anymore, just a place to rest and leave. Sombra moved out after the funeral. He accepted the news and told her he was sorry.

She couldn't say anything else. 

She left on the third of November, to her mother's in Mexico.


End file.
